The Stonegate Sword

by Harry James Fox

  The rest of the column had joined them by this time. Blackie waved the mount leaders to join them. “We are awaiting your orders,” he said to Don, as the others trotted up. “But I recommend that we use the scouts to delay them from moving further downriver. They can move as fast as the Raiders. We can use the main column to try to block them and turn them back.”

  “Very well,” said Don. “Do that. As you said, we can’t be the first one to take hostile action, but we can advance and warn them off. If they attack any of our men or any of the refugees on the highway, that is hostile, and then we can let them taste our steel. Drive them back, Sir Blackie!”

  “What if they fire arrows?” asked one mount leader.

  “Reply in kind,” answered Don. “That would certainly untie our hands. By all means, string your bows.”

  “All right, you heard the man,” answered Blackie. “Let’s go take a look!”

  With hand signals, Blackie directed the scouts to move to a position uphill and downriver from the enemy patrol. Donald remained on the lower ridge above the highway, with Philip, the other messenger, a bugler, and a couple of bodyguards. He wanted to be able to see the scouts, the Raiders and the main column of Bows, all at the same time.

  Blackie let the main column directly toward the far ridge where they had last seen the Raiders. As Don topped a knoll that formed a high point on the lower ridge, he could see the Raiders cantering downhill towards the highway and river on the right. He had the bugler signal. But the troop had already seen them and sent a mount to cut them off. The Raiders were lightly armored, and their little horses were fast, but they could not outflank the troopers.

  For the next hour they continued a screen upcountry, checking every swale and patch of trees. They had come to a point where the valley was heading mostly east and knew that the Raider’s camp was getting closer. Blackie sent a messenger to report that the Raider patrol seemed to be returning to their camp, but that they had seen only a dozen; not twenty.

  They were scattered on a wide front to try to prevent any Raiders from slipping downriver without being seen. Don sent the first messenger back to Robert to advise him what had happened. The youth was mounted on one of Ariel’s fastest horses, and both were rested from their earlier trip. Don was confident that he could outride any Raider force that he might come across.

  It was late afternoon when they started up a well-beaten trail that led to the Raider camp. Don’s heart jumped when he saw a line of horses along a ridge to their right until he saw that they were a mount of Lance Troop. Don told Blackie to give his troopers a break, but to keep scouts out and on the alert. He and Philip then galloped over to have a conference with Robert. When they got close, they saw the blue Lance banner, as well as the large gold one signaling Robert’s field headquarters. Then there was Robert standing next to a cook tent. A heliograph was set up nearby and an operator with it. They rode up, dismounted, and both gladly accepted a drink of water. Philip then took both horses to a nearby spring so that they could also drink, and the commanders could confer.

  “How is the sweep going?” asked Robert. He gave Don a rough hug. “It is good to see you.”

  “Slowly,” answered Don. “We had to deal with some pitiful cases, but by this time we should have at least fifteen to twenty miles swept clean, and all the farms have been alerted to get ready to move.” Carl, the Lance Troop leader, walked up and joined them.

  “We have seen a steady stream of livestock and wagons moving upriver,” said Carl. “The word is surely getting out. It is good that many are not waiting for the levy to force them to move.”

  “We got a heliograph message a few minutes ago,” added Robert. “No sign of movement from Junction. I think we caught them by surprise.”

  Don nodded. “Did you see the Raider patrol return?”

  “Yes, a dozen or so came back, but that leaves six unaccounted for.”

  “That might mean that they slipped by us and are moving downriver with a message. Maybe we could have the Blades try to cut them off,” said Don. “Can we get a heliograph message to Slim? The Raiders can move as fast as any of our messengers, or I would send one.”

  Robert thought for a moment. “I don’t think a runner from the far heliograph station could reach Slim in time, either. But perhaps you should send a message to him anyway. He has to know what is happening. We will want all livestock and people north of Battle Ridge by tomorrow evening at the latest. That is an ideal place for the rear guard to defend against an attack from downriver.”

  So it was decided. Don would send a runner to Slim, and a heliograph message was to be sent to the Diné. They sent off the heliograph message immediately, before sunset cut off that channel of communication.

  “We probably should bring up Blade Troop right away,” said Don. “I know that leaves the levies as the only rear guard for the refugees and that they are little trained and untried. But they do have the archers that would discourage a cavalry attack, and infantry will not be able to catch up with them south of Battle Ridge. So it is a risk, but not unreasonable. If the Raiders come out in force, we will need all three troops, and even then we will be outnumbered.”

  “Hmmm. I tend to agree with you,” returned Robert. “Of course, even if the messenger left now, and Blade Troop moved upriver at all speed as soon as they got the word, they couldn’t be here before noon tomorrow.”

  “True,” said Don. “But the sooner, the better. I don’t like it that they will arrive tired on winded horses, either, still …”

  “They won’t arrive in peak condition for battle, that is for sure,” returned Robert. “But you do what you can do.” He drafted a message and called a slender young man to his side. “Take this to Sir Slim! We want him up here as soon as possible. Watch out. There are still at least six of those Raiders out there!”

  “Our little surprise for Balek Brown has moved up to within a couple of miles,” commented Robert. “They are making camp with no fires in the scrub oak east of here.”

  “So the council agreed … I am a bit surprised,” returned Don.

  “Samuel simply told them that it was his decision, and that he would not stand for the council second-guessing him. We still can’t be the one to take action first, though.”

  Don stood silent for a moment. Samuel was the marshall and it was time that he made his position clear. The war councils of the towns could set overall policy, but they could not command. There was going to be some rough edges, but they seemed to be off to a good start. The plan had been to bring a sizeable force of infantry with scaling ladders as close as possible to the Raider’s camp without being detected. The troopers would then try to draw the mounted Raiders out from behind their stockade and lead them away from their camp. The levies would then storm the camp and take it, leaving the Raiders nowhere to retreat. It was a risky plan, and it depended on the Raiders being willing to attack heavily-armed troopers, something they might be reluctant to do.

  “How many did Ariel send?” asked Don.

  “Both Ariel and Bethuel sent out part of their levy. The total is about six hundred. They are commanded by John, a weapon master of Ariel. ”

  “How did they get past Glenwood without being seen?”

  “They crossed the Kolaroo river several miles upstream of the Glenwood bridge. Engineers from Bethuel put up a temporary suspension bridge, and they were able to cross at night. We think they were able to get by Glenwood and the House of Healing without being seen. We have tried to intercept any riders coming to the Raider’s camp from that direction. A couple did try to get through, and we did turn them back. So far, so good!”

  Samuel’s experience was making itself felt, obviously. Moving a force that large without being seen was not an easy thing to do. Normally it would have been impossible, but with Robert and the Lance Troop in position, the Raiders had not been able
to send out patrols. That was going to cost them. Balek Brown was no doubt feeling the pressure to do something. Robert and Don were counting on the fact that his three hundred Raiders might be willing to come out and do battle against heavy cavalry, since they would greatly outnumber them. The plan was for the troopers to try to draw the Raiders far enough away so that they could not stop Ariel’s and Bethuel’s infantry assault on the fort. It would be tricky to pull off.

  When Blackie joined them, he was briefed on the plan, and then he left to make camp not far from Lance Troop. They were to water and grain their horses, then picket them. Security was first priority, the horses came second, and then the troopers could take their turn at the mess tent. In the meantime, Don and Philip rode up to the ridge top where the lookouts kept watch on the main gate of the enemy camp. The gate was closed, and there seemed to be little activity. Don was satisfied with what he saw and said so. He and Philip rode back to Bow Troop, then down to the water hole to give their horses a drink.

  Don’s greatest fear was that Balek Brown would simply wait them out. They could not assault the stockade if the Raiders were all there to defend it. Losses would be crippling, which they could not afford. So Brown would be safe as long as he took no offensive action. On the other hand, Brown surely knew that the new troopers had little training and no experience. Perhaps the temptation to test them in battle would be too much.

  A second scout reported just at dusk that the Raiders had formed up in front of the fort briefly, then returned back through the gates. It seemed to be a demonstration of strength. The scouts were able to get a good count, and there were at least five hundred. Some of those might not be battle ready. This might be a trick to frighten off the horse troops. But the force was much larger than expected. This was not good news. At that point, Robert ordered everyone to stand down, except for the guards, and sleep.

  The troopers curled up on saddle blankets and got as much rest as they could. Don ran the preparations over and over in his mind, but sleep finally found him. It was a short night, and the dawn came clear and cold. It was Sunday, but this would not be a day of rest! The morning sky was red. Some troopers joked that they hoped the red stood for Raider blood and not theirs, if it was an omen. Don was not in a mood for joking. Even though they had practiced it many times, the feint that they planned was dangerous. It was all too easy for any retreat to turn into a rout, which would be fatal. He told the mount leaders to carefully go over the plans one more time as they ate breakfast. The job of the Bows would be the hardest, and they only had one chance to get it right. Their main mission was no longer guarding the refugees, that was for sure!

  At sunup, the Lances rode over the ridge and straggled into an untidy formation about a half-mile from the main gate of the Raider’s stockade. Some got off to adjust their cinches, and others milled around, gawking at the stockade and the dimly-seen faces peering over the walls. Don and Robert had moved up to the guard post where they could see the main gate, and the open ground surrounding the walls. Blackie and Bow Troop stayed behind the ridge, for the time being. They decided to move Bow troop uphill, a bit more to the north, and Don cantered back downhill to give the order to Blackie. Philip rode with him.

  On the way back to the ridge top, there could see a flurry of excitement. Everyone seemed to be mounting up, but no bugles were blown. Don spurred Snap to a gallop, and they quickly rejoined the group.

  “It looks as if Balek is swallowing the bait,” said Robert, pointing. “A large force is coming out of the main gate; they seem to be forming up. I expect that he will bring out his full force. Make sure to keep Bow Troop fairly close to the Lances. No more than one hundred yards away. We will all retreat together. When you hear the bugle sound ‘Retreat,’ that will be time to speed up, and turn left. Lances will slow as if making a stand and move right. Then we wheel and move between the Raiders and their fort.”

  “Yes, I have it,” answered Don. “Be well!”

  They ordered Philip to ride to the infantry levies and tell them to begin moving up. He galloped off to the east. Don rejoined Blackie, and they formed the troop into a line formation. Then they moved forward at a trot until they could see over the ridge. The ground was rocky and uneven, with low rolling hills and small groves of piñon pine and juniper. The hours of training began to pay off. Don was proud of how smoothly they formed up.

  As the topped the ridge, they saw horsemen coming their way like ants from an anthill that had been kicked over. They had known that they would be outnumbered, but the reality was even worse than Don had imagined. But they did not want to fight, not yet. First, they wanted to draw the horsemen away from the fort and allow the infantry to make their attack. What they planned was one of the most difficult maneuvers a cavalry troop could attempt, a retreat that looked like a rout, followed by a reverse into an organized formation.

  “Wait for my signal, then retreat,” shouted Don. The enemy closed the gap amazingly fast, their small horses running like greyhounds. Just as Lance Troop neared the crest of the ridge, he shouted and waved to the rear. The bugle sounded. The troopers wheeled their horses and galloped to the rear, holding a line formation. But they were careful to make the formation look deliberately ragged, as if they were in a rout, rather than a retreat.

  Don was near the right flank as they swept back over the crest of the ridge and down the far side. The Raiders were howling and waving their swords, as they spurred like mad to catch them. Their speedy ponies were closing the gap rapidly, but Don wanted to draw them at least several miles and well over the hill from the stockade before wheeling. “Blackie, have some bowmen slow them a bit,” he shouted.

  A dozen of the best Bow Troop archers turned in their saddles and fired at the leading ponies. Several were hit, and the leaders dropped back. Bow Troop crossed a level swale and skirted a scattered grove of juniper on their left when they heard the bugler blow again. It was time to wheel.

  Don knew that the Lances would slow in order to block the Raiders and form the hinge of the pivot. But the Bows held their speed and began to swing to the left. The Raiders were moving faster and spurred by on the right, attempting to get ahead and cut off their retreat.

  It was time for the Bows to wheel their line, just as the Lances had done a few minutes earlier. Troopers on the Bow’s left flank linked with the right flank of the Lances. Don, on the extreme right of both troops, waved his arm and shouted “Wheel!” The bugler gave the correct call. At the same time he reined to the left and spurred Snap, asking him to give his all.

  His brave mount answered with a burst of speed, jumping like a deer over sage brush, and nimbly threading his way through rocky outcrops. The Bow Troop line swung as if on a pivot, with those on the end playing crack the whip. Don and those near him had to scramble to keep up. Glancing over, he saw several Raiders had turned and were closing in on him from three sides. They all threw their javelins at about the same time. One deflected off his shield, and hit his helm hard enough to knock him sideways in his saddle. Another just missed his thigh and stuck in the pommel. The other went under Snap’s neck. He hoped that it was a clean miss.

  But Snap suddenly turned, lunged forward, ears back, and bit at the nearest of the Raider ponies. His teeth clamped on the other horse’s withers, which caused the smaller animal to throw up his head and rear. The rider was distracted, simply trying to keep his seat, and his shield flew up, leaving his body unprotected. Don brought his sword around in an arc parallel with the ground with the weight of his body behind it. He felt his blade hit with a solid thunk and it came back bloody for a third of its length. The other rider went down, but Don was still ringed by enemies.

  Breaking off, he reined Snap hard to the left to catch up with the line. A Raider turned in front of him as if to block his path, but an arrow was growing out of his dirty surcoat. Don swung his sword at him as he rode by, but only succeeded in knocking his javelin out of
the enemy hand. He looked to his left and saw Philip with his bow drawn, nocking another arrow. Where did he come from? He drew smoothly and fired just behind Don, as Snap lunged forward.

  Don glanced over his left shoulder and could see a group of Raiders falling back in confusion. They obviously had tried to drive a wedge through the Bow Troop line and had been hit with a volley of arrows. A scattered line of ponies lay on the ground, and several others were feathered with shafts, and they milled in confusion. In effect, they had swung open a living gate of horseflesh and let the Raiders race by, then pivoted to close ranks behind the stragglers.

  Blackie gave the command to halt, and a bugle gave three quick blasts. The horses plunged to a quick stop from a full gallop, and then they turned the wedge to face the enemy. This time the volley of arrows was well aimed and concentrated on the leaders. Almost all of the first rank of Raiders was hit. Horses stumbled and fell. Riders turned aside, grasping at bloody shafts. The first rank of the wedge of troopers then slung their bows over their shoulders and took up their short lances.

  The Raiders pulled back about 150 yards and formed a ragged line, as though blocking their retreat, on the far side of a rough gully. They heard shouts, and the enemy force spread wings out on both flanks, as though to encircle the two Troops. Don was now on the extreme left flank. He was glad of a moment’s rest, to let Snap catch his breath. His mount was a bit lathered on the sides of his neck, but had a few miles in him yet.

  The two opposing bands of horsemen stood as if frozen for several long minutes, about three hundred yards from each other. Their horses were glad of a rest as steam rose from wet, heaving flanks. A few troopers bent their bows, but Blackie quickly shouted, “Hold your fire.”

  Don agreed. They were not too far away for a bowshot, but it would probably be an arrow wasted. Don began to inspect the line. Then he heard Philip’s voice. “Sir Don, Robert is signaling! He wants you!”